At Greenwich we were about three
hundred paces behind them. At Blackwall we could not have been
more than two hundred and fifty. I have coursed many creatures
in many countries during my checkered career, but never did sport
give me such a wild thrill as this mad, flying man-hunt down the
Thames. Steadily we drew in upon them, yard by yard. In the
silence of the night we could hear the panting and clanking of
their machinery. The man in the stern still crouched upon the
deck, and his arms were moving as though he were busy, while
every now and then he would look up and measure with a glance the
distance which still separated us. Nearer we came and nearer.
Jones yelled to them to stop. We were not more than four boat's
lengths behind them, both boats flying at a tremendous pace. It
was a clear reach of the river, with Barking Level upon one side
and the melancholy Plumstead Marshes upon the other. At our hail
the man in the stern sprang up from the deck and shook his two
clinched fists at us, cursing the while in a high, cracked voice.
He was a good-sized, powerful man, and as he stood poising
himself with legs astride I could see that from the thigh
downwards there was but a wooden stump upon the right side. At
the sound of his strident, angry cries there was movement in the
huddled bundle upon the deck. It straightened itself into a
little black man--the smallest I have ever seen--with a great,
misshapen head and a shock of tangled, dishevelled hair. Holmes
had already drawn his revolver, and I whipped out mine at the
sight of this savage, distorted creature. He was wrapped in some
sort of dark ulster or blanket, which left only his face exposed;
but that face was enough to give a man a sleepless night. Never
have I seen features so deeply marked with all bestiality and
cruelty. His small eyes glowed and burned with a sombre light,
and his thick lips were writhed back from his teeth, which
grinned and chattered at us with a half animal fury.

"Fire if he raises his hand," said Holmes, quietly. We were
within a boat's-length by this time, and almost within touch of
our quarry. I can see the two of them now as they stood, the
white man with his legs far apart, shrieking out curses, and the
unhallowed dwarf with his hideous face, and his strong yellow
teeth gnashing at us in the light of our lantern.

It was well that we had so clear a view of him. Even as we
looked he plucked out from under his covering a short, round
piece of wood, like a school-ruler, and clapped it to his lips.
Our pistols rang out together. He whirled round, threw up his
arms, and with a kind of choking cough fell sideways into the
stream. I caught one glimpse of his venomous, menacing eyes amid
the white swirl of the waters. At the same moment the wooden-
legged man threw himself upon the rudder and put it hard down, so
that his boat made straight in for the southern bank, while we
shot past her stern, only clearing her by a few feet. We were
round after her in an instant, but she was already nearly at the
bank. It was a wild and desolate place, where the moon glimmered
upon a wide expanse of marsh-land, with pools of stagnant water
and beds of decaying vegetation. The launch with a dull thud ran
up upon the mud-bank, with her bow in the air and her stern flush
with the water. The fugitive sprang out, but his stump instantly
sank its whole length into the sodden soil. In vain he struggled
and writhed. Not one step could he possibly take either forwards
or backwards. He yelled in impotent rage, and kicked frantically
into the mud with his other foot, but his struggles only bored
his wooden pin the deeper into the sticky bank. When we brought
our launch alongside he was so firmly anchored that it was only
by throwing the end of a rope over his shoulders that we were
able to haul him out, and to drag him, like some evil fish, over
our side. The two Smiths, father and son, sat sullenly in their
launch, but came aboard meekly enough when commanded. The Aurora
herself we hauled off and made fast to our stern.